


our shoes will tell our stories, long after we're gone

by tomorrowisforeverallours



Category: Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: Canon Related, Demonic Possession, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:48:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowisforeverallours/pseuds/tomorrowisforeverallours
Summary: a series of missing moments from the canon timeline. may overlap when it comes to pairings because why not? i'm writing these as i replay the game, but they may not be in chronological order.1. "Your grief doesn't make you a burden, Your Majesty."2. "So do what ye want wiv me, but give ‘em back the ‘orse. Please."3. "Just thinking."4. Purgatory.





	1. Chapter 1

He wishes Sasha was here. She would know how to make amends with the people he's shunned. She would have no issues rekindling the alliances Ascantha has let fall by the wayside in the past few years. She could address their people in a way that won’t sound as though he’s begging for forgiveness.

But Sasha isn’t here anymore. The man with the Moonshadow Harp has helped Pavan take the first step towards coping, and though it is a most painful step to take, he feels as though maybe things will be okay.

Not now, but maybe someday.

Now is the time to pick up the pieces. Eight and his friends have been given beds to rest in after their trek to Wisher’s Peak. Pavan has many people to speak to, but it is just his luck that the first person to find him out of his room is the one and only Emma.

“Your Majesty!” she starts, hope and surprise coloring her voice. He can tell that she’s holding back from saying something potentially offensive when she stutters, “Ah - it’s nice to see you!” instead of the more obvious, “You’re not in your room! Or wearing black! Or drowning in self-pity!”

“You don’t have to beat around the bush, Emma,” he says, approaching her from his throne. “I know this is a surprise. Your friends... they helped me. I saw Sasha.”

“Oh - you did?” Her expression lights up, and then deflates with a sudden timidness. “I hope I didn’t cross a line by confiding in them, Your Majesty - “

“You did nothing of the sort. It’s what I needed. Seeing Sasha... it reminded me that she’s with me still. I would only be disgracing her memory if I kept on the way I was.”

Pavan takes her hands. Sasha’s hands were always freezing, but Emma’s are almost too warm for him to hold.

“I don’t know how to thank you for... for everything,” he starts, his words faltering as he realizes just how much he owes to Emma. Without her steadfast presence and willingness to bare herself to a stranger, there is no doubt in his mind that he would have wasted away in his room, doing a disservice both to his kingdom and to Sasha. Since the day she had stepped up to take charge of his day-to-day care, she has never once wavered, and the idea that anyone besides Sasha could be so devoted to him in his darkest moments is a perplexing one.

Emma gives him a homely smile. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me, Your Majesty. I’m simply relieved that you’ve come back to yourself.”

“But I’ve been a great burden to you these past two years -”

“Your grief doesn’t make you a burden, Your Majesty,” interrupts Emma, and it catches Pavan off guard.

He’s spent so long hating himself for the anguish that has kept him paralyzed, unable to properly do his duty as King. To have someone tell him otherwise is hard to believe, and a dry chuckle escapes him. “Well, nevertheless. How can I make up for all the trouble I’ve caused you, Emma? Name it. Anything you want: I will do everything in my power to deliver it to you.”

Pavan is intimately aware of the eyes on them, and yet does not care. Sasha was never self-conscious about her friendships with the common Ascanthans, and he will not be, either.

“Well,” says Emma slowly, in her charmingly rustic accent, a lovely smile spreading across her face, “I would quite appreciate a holiday, Your Majesty.”

Pavan laughs, then, for what feels like the first time in an eternity. “Then you shall have it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope he gets to move on, someday.


	2. Chapter 2

Many a man has prostrated himself at her feet. Whether they are begging for their lives or confessing their ardent love for her, Red has always reveled in the sight of a man giving himself over to her mercy.

When Yangus falls to his knees and presses his forehead to the floorboards of her home, Red is faintly sick to her stomach.

“Wha- what’re you doin’?” she stammers.

“Look, Red, the guv’s helped me go straight,” Yangus mumbles in that ridiculously crude accent of his. “An’ we’re on a mission now. Vengeance and all. Lots o’ people dead. I don’t expect yeh to understand, an’ I can’t tell the details, but I need the ‘orse. She’s more important than ye know. So do what ye want wiv me, but give ‘em back the ‘orse. Please.”

Red stares in disbelief at the man begging before her. _Please? I didn’t think he had it in him._

Once upon a time, she would have done almost anything to have that smug bastard groveling at her feet. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have even let him set foot in her house. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have had this infuriating urge to tug him up by the spikes on his ridiculous helmet and kiss him senseless.

Red crosses her arms and turns away from him, conjuring up the most derisive look she can manage. “Ah, get up. You can keep the ‘orse, but I’m keepin’ the jewel. You promised it to me, didntcha?” she adds facetiously. No point in mentioning that she was going to let him take the horse, anyway. 

Yangus pushes himself to his feet unsteadily. Red stubbornly avoids his eyes. “Hah... guess I did. Thanks, Red.”

“Oh, get out, I’m sick of starin’ at your ugly mug,” she mutters, keeping her back to him until she hears the door shut behind them. Then she returns to her rocking chair, muscles a little less steady than they had been before.

_Maybe he really has changed. Have I?_

_Well, no matter what, things are bound to get a little more exciting around here. Better be ready for it._

Red gets up to find her gear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate writing their accents


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh? Hello, my dear. How kind of you to pick me up._

_What the hell? Who are you? And why can you speak into my head?_

_Don't ask questions. It'll make everything much easier._

"Are you alright, Jessica? You've been awfully quiet since we left the Dark Ruins," says Angelo softly, leaning against the railing of their ship next to her. The twin sunsets, sea and sky, paint the horizon a fiery orange as they sail towards the lush Kingdom of Argonia, where they will rest before planning their next step. Her grip is tight around the scepter, has been ever since she'd picked it up out of the dust of Dhoulmagus' corpse.

_Tell him nothing._

Jessica catches the glint of his liquid silver hair in the dying sunlight and wants to tell him everything. She'd considered it earlier - "I'm a good listener," he'd said, and the words were sleazy but his tone was genuine, just as it is now. She focuses, hard, and opens her mouth, but the words turn to acid on her tongue and she swallows, hard.

"Just thinking."

_Good, darling._

"Hmm." Angelo looks at her askance, blue eyes as piercing as his arrows, and Jessica screams, _please notice that something's wrong! throw the scepter in the ocean! help me!_

But, of course, he merely turns to gaze out upon the ocean again. "That's fair. There's a lot to think about, after all."

The last scrap of hope in her dies with the sun.

_Oh, don't be like that, Miss Jessica. Come now, we have much to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will go down with this ship, i swear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Purgatory Island. One month. Those within, and those left behind.

**Day One**

He's cold.

Rolo hasn't stopped banging on the bars for the last half an hour. Eight has half a mind to go over there and _make_ him shut up, but he doesn't think it would do much good, and he'd rather save his strength.

The priest will quiet once he accepts their fate. Yangus and Jessica are still troubled, brainstorming possible escape plans in quiet tones in a corner. Angelo stands apart from them, and Eight gently shakes his head when Yangus makes a move to call out to him.

He is perhaps the most religious of their bunch, in a subdued sort of way. The Goddess has never led him astray before, and so Eight sees no reason to doubt her now. She had brought him to Trodain and kept him safe throughout his rather tumultuous adventure, and if part of her plan includes keeping them here, then Eight will oblige.

He hopes they're not here for too long, though. He's beginning to feel a chill.

* * *

**Day Four**

No sign of his dear _ragazzo_. He's beginning to worry.

The others would be surprised that he'd managed to escape Savella without being caught by the Templars, but Morrie always keeps an ace or two up his sleeve. In this particular case, he'd had just enough time to summon a friend of his to whisk him off to safety. ( _Ragazzo_ had the poor little Godbird's Soulstone, after all.)

From what he had heard on the wind, the dog had been defeated, but then that Marcello had strolled in and accused his companions of murder. His beloved _champione_ , framed for murder! Why, it has Morrie wanting to fly right back to Savella to set the man straight.

But it has only been a few days. If his age has taught him anything, it is that sometimes one needs to wait for the right moment to strike.

Morrie stands on the roof of his Monstrous Pit, his back to the statue of his _champione_ , and waits.

* * *

**Day 9**

He hasn't eaten food this disgusting since that year he spent on Red's ship. Bad memories, those.

One plate of slop a day; Yangus ain't even sure what's in it. But food is food, and in a place like this, he refuses to turn down anything that might keep his strength up for their inevitable rescue or breakout.

It's going to happen. It has to happen. One of these days they're going to see an opening, or one of those guards is gonna trip up, and then Yangus is going to get them the hell out of there. They've got a mission, after all, and no conceitited little twig like Marcello is gonna keep them from kicking Rhapthorne's arse.

But for now, he's helpless, so he eats Jessica's leftovers and watches the guv meditate and imagines strangling that guard with his bare hands.

* * *

**Day 16**

She's useless here.

She understands why this island was made into a prison; whether it be the nature of this cave or some deliberate invention, her magic is null here. Her attempts to start a fire, even if just for warmth, fizzle out instantly. Even her attempts to bolster the others to keep up their strength fall short.

And Jessica knows that her brute strength is pathetic compared to the others. If Yangus can't break the bars, then none of them can. Their only hope is that one of their friends managed to escape and can help get them out.

She's losing hope, though, and if Marcello got his hands on the sceptre...

_Don't think about it._

* * *

**Day 25**

It's been a pain in her arse, tracking them down, but she's done it. Purgatory Island.

Ach, he couldn't have gotten imprisoned anywhere easier to break into, huh? Red'd had to break him out of Ascantha's dungeon once, and she'd thought that was a pain. Purgatory Island is a million times worse than that.

But she ain't giving up, 'cause she's been with them long enough to know that if they don't kill whatever that evil thing is, there won't be any treasure left to pillage, and that would be a damn shame.

She gets herself back to their fancy ship, where she runs into the monster-man and the horse-princess, and off they go.

He better be alive when they get there, or she's gonna kill him.

* * *

**Day 32**

That idiot.

It wasn't Rhapthorne. Or, if it was, he was aided and abetted, because Marcello had been gunning for the Lord High Priest's position ever since Abbot Francisco had been murdered. He would have figured out some way to off the man at some point; this way just means that he's also playing into the hands of a horrifying evil monster intent on destroying the world.

Just like Marcello.

Nothing he can do about it from down here, though. Angelo is under no illusions that they will be freed from this place. It's called Purgatory for a reason, after all; the Goddess has no power here. They will waste away, just like these other criminals, and the world will fall into darkness, and it'll all be his fault.

Angelo's? Or Marcello's?

He knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hadn't thought about it, but eight must be pretty religious to visit a church every time something important happens. 
> 
> poor angelo. he's a sad little boy.


End file.
